


Five Times Adam and Tony Fought, and One Time They Made Up

by queenitsy



Category: Troubleshooters Inc. - Suzanne Brockmann
Genre: 5 Times, Canon LGBTQ Male Character, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 19:59:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2704715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenitsy/pseuds/queenitsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam and Tony are going to live happily ever after eventually. It just takes them awhile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Adam and Tony Fought, and One Time They Made Up

**Author's Note:**

> Whoops I wrote a thing. I played a bit fast and loose with the actual timeline, because the DADT repeal was passed in December 2010, but didn't actually go into effect until September 2011.
> 
> Thanks to Lielabell for encouragement and PoisonIvory for the beta! <3

**Five.**  
 _September 25, 2008_

"I brought you a present," Tony said.

"Yeah, I can see that, I'm opening it now," Adam answered, unzipping Tony's pants as he sank to his knees, then giving Tony a hearty push. Not that he'd be able to budge Tony unless Tony let him, but it wasn't like Tony was going to say no. He landed on the couch in an easy sprawl, and helped Adam tug his jeans down.

And, yep, Tony was going commando. Adam didn't actually entirely get that -- it just seemed like it would be uncomfortable -- but he appreciated it on a purely aesthetic level.

Actually, there wasn't anything _pure_ about it. 

Tony laughed, fingers mussing Adam's perfect gel job, but he said, "That's not what I meant, Wyndham."

Adam smirked up at him, and the fact of the matter was he wanted _this_ more than any gift, and it was clear Tony did too. They'd only made it as far as the living room, where Tony had stopped to toss his jacket, and Adam had... well, he'd decided he didn't want to wait any more to get his hands on Tony. His hands, among other things.

For the next couple of minutes, Tony didn't say anything else, except Adam's name and a couple of strangled _oh gods_. Which just made Adam smirk, because Tony was always so composed. He was a SEAL, after all, and had to be ready to respond to anything at all. Usually that included Adam, but sometimes, like now, Adam could rock Tony's world hard enough that he let go of his iron-clad control and fell apart.

It was almost more satisfying than when Adam himself got off, which he knew he would happen in a matter of minutes.

" _Fuck_ ," Tony managed once he was completely sated, leaning back on the couch. Adam stood and adjusted his own jeans, mostly to make it clear just how hard he'd gotten from going down on Tony, then finger combed his hair. Of course, he sat on the couch and Tony immediately reached up to mess it up again, laughing.

"Dick," Adam said, with no heat behind the insult. 

"Yeah, yeah." Tony grinned, which made Adam's heart do this little stutter thing he'd never admit out loud. But then Tony reached for his jeans, down around his ankles, and dug a folded envelope out of his back pocket. Adam quirked an eyebrow, because Tony fishing around like that without actually pulling his pants up was ridiculous, but he wasn't exactly going to complain at the sight of his boyfriend naked from the waist down. 

"Anyway, uh, it's nothing big, but." Tony shrugged and handed the envelope to Adam.

He unfolded it, and opened it carefully. The contents had to be pretty small, but -- oh. It was an earring, a small gold stud that held a polished red rock. 

"I bought it over in Afghanistan. There were these women selling them -- it's a program where they get funding to make jewelry and then keep the profits for their families, so it's a really good cause and… yeah." He dragged a hand through his hair, looking really young and really… nervous, actually.

"It's gorgeous," Adam said. It wasn't his usual style, but he didn't care about that. He cared that Tony had been thinking of him, even though it had been weeks between when he'd been in touch. Which had sucked a lot. Adam had tried not to think about it too much, to worry too much, but he couldn't exactly stop himself. He didn't even know where Tony was most of the time he was gone; he just had to make guesses based on the news, and the news was always terrifying.

But here he was now, alive and whole. 

Adam reached for the earring he had in and pulled it off, dropped it on the coffee table, and slid the new one into place. Tony was smiling at him, wide and open, blue eyes sparkling, and something about him made Adam want to give in a way he never had before. It wasn't that he'd always been a selfish lover exactly, but he'd never been a guy who got off just on giving someone else pleasure. But Jesus, he would happily have sucked Tony off again right then and there. Tony was still young enough that it wouldn't take long to get him going again.

Before he could even offer to, let alone drag Tony to the bedroom for anything more, Tony pulled him into an embrace and kissed him. "You're gorgeous," Tony said. "I think about you all the time. Don't freak out, okay, but I miss you a lot when I'm OCONUS."

Adam knew why he said it like that, because hearing stuff like that had spooked Adam before. But Tony had been gone for four months, and completely out of contact for six weeks. Adam had been freaked out pretty much that whole time, worried sick -- like, literally sick, his stomach aching with anxiety. 

Which was really not okay. Adam had never cared about anyone like that -- not Robin, who he'd loved, and not even Jules, who also had a dangerous job. But then again, he'd always known he was going to lose Robin. He'd never really had Robin in the first place. And Jules… that was more complicated. And yeah, he'd worried a lot. But not like this. 

"Hey, whoa," Tony said, drawing away. "When I kiss you and you freeze like that, I start to worry."

"You don't want to joke about worrying right now," Adam said, pulling back himself. He must have sounded pretty serious, because Tony actually yanked his pants the rest of the way up. 

"I'm not joking," Tony said. "You went from here with me to somewhere else, and wherever that was, you definitely don't like it there. So talk to me about it."

Adam shook his head. "It was nothing. I'm fine. I'm…" He reached for Tony, wrapped his hand around Tony's really, really excellent bicep. He leaned in, kissed Tony's closed mouth, and breathed, " _Right here_."

That should have had Tony shaking the whole thing off with him, moving past that stupid moment and back to sex. It had been months since either of them had gotten laid, so the sex was going to be really good. Way better than talking about whatever Tony thought was going on.

But Tony didn't kiss him back, didn't respond to the fingers stroking his arm, or to Adam's smirk.

"Adam, come on." Tony twisted out of Adam's grip, and took his hand. Great. They were going to have a _moment_. "You were worried about me, I'm guessing?"

Adam yanked his hand free and stood up. "I'll be in the bedroom, if you want to join me."

He sauntered off, knowing that just the way he walked would get to Tony. Especially given that Tony had been both busy and surrounded by other guys for months -- Adam had been able to jerk off more or less whenever he wanted to, but Tony hadn't.

Tony followed him down the hall, but stood in the doorway, arms crossed. "We need to talk about this."

"We really don't," Adam said. He pulled off his shirt and threw it at Tony. It hit his chest and fell to the floor. Tony didn't move at all. He didn't even blink, and his face didn't get that appreciative expression it usually did when he looked at Adam's body. He sure as hell didn't look like a man who was sex starved.

Fine.

Adam stepped up his game, turning away to unzip his pants, let them fall and stepped out of them. He didn't risk a look back to see how Tony reacted to that, just told himself Tony must at least be staring now. He stripped off his boxer-briefs too, and what the hell, his socks, before even glancing up.

Tony might as well have been made of stone.

"Excuse me," Adam said, pushing back past him. Now he was fighting dirty. "I'm going to shower."

He could hear Tony's intake of breath, as something finally got to him. Thank god. Adam left the bathroom door open as he turned on the shower, and then sure enough --

"Fuck." Tony was there, and he grabbed Adam's wrist before he could step into the water. "You are killing me, Adam."

"Only the little death," Adam promised, smirking.

He could see Tony's resolve flickering and leaned up to kiss him again, but then the shutters came back down behind those gorgeous blue eyes. Tony maneuvered Adam around, somehow back into the hall, and then reached back to shut the shower off. He grabbed a towel from the rack on the wall and tossed it at Adam.

"This isn't going to work if you won't talk to me," Tony said, then softened it with, "And don't think this is easy for me, either, with you standing there like that. Jesus Christ."

Adam did _not_ wrap the towel around his waist like Tony obviously wanted. Instead, he snapped, "You're here for what, six days? _I_ would like to spend them having fun. And this conversation _you_ want to have? Not. Fun. It ends with both of us pissed off and nothing changing. There's no point."

"There is. The point is that we talk about things." Tony grabbed the towel back from Adam, who smirked, but before he could say or do anything Tony was reaching to wrap it around his waist -- and when he tried to squirm away, Tony pinned him to the wall, body to body.

Which was so not fair. Tony had at least six inches on him, not to mention muscle and combat training. And, thanks to Adam being naked, the certain knowledge that Adam didn't actually object to Tony pinning him like that.

"And you're right," Tony continued, once Adam stopped squirming. He was talking into Adam's ear, his hand still holding the towel in place. Which meant his hand was resting riiiiight next to Adam's junk, a fact neither of them were oblivious to. 

And because of that, it took Adam a second to realize what Tony had said.

"Yes, of course I'm right," Adam agreed. "So does that mean you're going to let it go and fuck me, already?"

"No," Tony said. He drew back further, pulling his hand away. If Adam moved slightly, the towel would fall off again. But they obviously weren't going to have sex until they'd had this stupid conversation, so fine. 

"Then what exactly are we fighting about?" Adam yanked the towel into a slightly more stable position and glowered.

"We're not fighting. We're discussing," Tony said, though his jaw was clenched a lot like they were fighting. "Look. I can't make my job safer, and I can't make you not worry about me. But I want you to _tell me_ , damn it. Tell me what you're going through, because even if I can't fix it, at least I'll know."

"Which does approximately no good," Adam snapped, then pushed Tony away a little. If they were fighting, he didn't need Tony crowded up against his hard on. Once again, he knew Tony only budged by choice, but at least it gave him some breathing room.

"Maybe it does no good," Tony conceded. "But maybe it reminds me, okay? Maybe hearing you say _I miss you, Tony_ , or _I worry about you, Tony_ , reminds me, next time I'm in a hot zone, to be more alert. Because I want to come home, here, to you."

"Nice line," Adam snapped. "Did you practice that in the mirror before you left? Wait -- someone might have overheard, and you couldn't have that."

"Why are you being such an asshole about this?"

"Because I was having panic attacks!" 

Tony backed up another step, recoiling as if Adam had slapped him. Adam looked away sharply, arms crossed. He hated that it was true -- it had just been twice, but they were real -- and he hated that he'd said it. And he hated what was going to come next even more, because it was so stupidly easy to predict. Adam was an asshole, and they both knew it, so Tony was going to ask him if he was serious, ask if he'd really meant it or if Adam was just trying to manipulate him. 

It was the natural conclusion to leap to. It's what Adam would assume, if their positions were reversed.

Except that after that one heartbeat of shock, Tony surged forward, wrapping his arms around Adam. "Oh, god, Adam. That's… that's … "

"It doesn't matter," Adam mumbled against Tony's shoulder. "It's fine. It's fine."

"No, it's not fine. Can I help? Is there anything I can do?"

Adam exhaled shakily. Yeah, Tony could do something -- quit the job he loved and give up the only career he'd ever wanted. Which they both knew would never happen, and Adam wasn't going to ask him to do it. Adam didn’t really need the reminder that no matter how much Tony loved him, he would still always come in second to Tony's job.

Instead, he finally mumbled, "It just sucks. I'll be missing you, and realized it's been awhile since I heard from you, and I can't just call in case someone checks your messages for you and…" And he couldn't quite breathe. It wasn't an attack, he just felt so stupid, so vulnerable, standing there in a goddamn towel, talking about how pathetic he was.

"Oh, Jesus. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Tony murmured, stroking Adam's back.

Adam didn't say anything, just let Tony hold him. And for a minute, it felt like it was fine. Like as long as he was in Tony's arms, everything was okay. And Tony seemed to think so, too, because he kissed Adam's temple, and didn't mention that Adam's shoulders were shaking or that he was clinging to Tony, fingers clenching his shirt.

Finally, Adam was able to breathe a little easier, and Tony loosened his grip. Just a little. 

"Have you talked to anyone about the panic?" Tony asked.

Adam shook his head.

"Maybe you should," he said.

"Ugh." Adam shook his head again, this time to clear it. He shoved it all aside, throwing what had just happened into his mental junk drawer. "I'm handling it. My doctor gives me Xanax when I need fly, I take some of that."

Tony frowned. "I'm not sure that's the best solution, here."

"It works fine."

"It's using prescription drugs for a purpose that isn't what they're prescribed for, so…" Tony raised his eyebrows a little.

"Actually, I'm pretty sure panic and anxiety are exactly what Xanax is for. It even says so on the label." Adam looked up at Tony and met him eyebrow raise for eyebrow raise, until Tony cracked a smile. And that helped, too, loosened the thing that had gone tight in Adam's chest. So he leaned up to kiss Tony. "Are we done fighting now?"

"It wasn't a fight," Tony insisted. "And no, there's one more thing."

Adam rolled his eyes and slumped back against the wall. "What?"

"The situation is shitty and it sucks and I'm sorry. But thank you for trusting me enough to tell me that. " He leaned in and kissed Adam. " _Now_ we're done."

Adam looked up at him, smirking. "So _now_ can we have sex?"

"Oh hell yes," Tony said, and there it was, the same glint in his eyes he'd had when he walked in. He fell back a few steps, just across the hall, and pushed the bathroom door open. "So about that shower…"

**Four.**  
 _September 28, 2008_

Adam walked in with the takeout and found Tony staring quizzically at his fridge. It sucked and was stupid as shit that they couldn't go out for dinner together, in case someone recognized Adam, or god forbid, took Adam's picture. But Tony loved lasagna, and the place two blocks down didn't deliver, which meant Adam had gone out to get it himself.

"Nice … art," Tony said.

Adam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. You want me to take it all down?"

Tony laughed. "No, it's cute."

Adam wasn't much for art, but he'd stuck a few postcards up on his fridge. They were cheesecake pictures -- of guys, of course, which he'd known he had to display from the moment he laid eyes on them. 

"You think it's tacky," Adam said.

"No, I --"

"It is," Adam assured him. "It's tacky on purpose. It's ironic."

"Sure," Tony said indulgently. "Actually, I was just looking to see if there were any pictures. You know, of your family? The fridge seemed like a likely place."

"You hang up pictures of your mom on your fridge? And she has pictures of you? No, wait, your report cards?" Adam mocked.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm young." Tony rolled his eyes fondly. "I was just…"

"Snooping," Adam said.

"Yeah," Tony agreed. "Because I've told you about all about my family, and my friends, and college, and basically everything else about my life. And you have told me literally nothing. And don't get me wrong, the man of mystery thing is sexy, but after six months…"

"You were out of the country for four of those," Adam pointed out.

"So do you have a minimum number of months spent together before you tell me if you have any siblings?" Tony was smiling as he said it, but Adam recognized the tone in his voice. It was the tone he got when he thought Adam was being ridiculous, which was not fair. 

It wasn't that Adam had a minimum number of months until he'd tell a boyfriend about his family. He didn't tell boyfriends about his family at all.

He didn't tell anyone.

"So you want your lasagna to get cold, or…?" Adam said, unpacking the to-go bag.

"You're not close with your folks?" Tony asked. But he grabbed plates from the cupboard and silverware from the drawer. 

"Wine glasses?" Adam prompted him. The last time Tony had been in town, he'd helped Adam move in a wine rack, and Adam kept it well stocked at all times.

"And you're literally just ignoring my questions," Tony said.

"Yes." Adam shot him his most winning smile. "So do you want to fight about it, or do you want to eat dinner?"

"Adam --"

"To clarify, I don't mean the sexy kind of fighting where I'm obnoxious so you pin my wrists and kiss me until I shut up. I'm talking about knock down, drag out, mind your own fucking business, Tony."

"Since we've been together for six months, your life _is_ my fucking business, Adam, and I _don't_ want to fight, I just want to be part of your life," Tony returned. 

"Do you? Because you literally won't eat dinner with me in public." 

"Can't," Tony snapped. " _Can't_ do it in public, even though yes, I want to, and you know that and -- damn it, you're trying to change the subject."

Adam shrugged. He hadn't thought that would really work. Tony was smart -- smarter than he was, Adam had no doubt -- and he was stubborn as hell. 

"Okay," Tony said, and took a breath. "Okay. Fine. If we're going to fight, how about we fight about this? You don't trust me. You refuse to talk to me about anything important unless I force you, and that's bullshit."

"It's bullshit that you won't listen to me when I tell you I don't want to talk, and my family is none of your business," Adam threw back at him. 

Tony took a step forward and Adam took a step sidewise, putting the table between them. If they were going to fight -- and goddamn it, Adam _was_ going to fight over this one -- he wasn't going to do it while hoping Tony didn't kiss him to shut him up. Tony did that a lot, and Adam usually goaded him into it because goddamn it was hot, but if Tony was right about anything, it was that this was important. Adam wasn't going to just give in to everything Tony wanted just because he wanted to get laid.

Not this time, anyway.

"What is the big deal?" Tony asked. "So you're not close with your family, so what?"

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Adam said. "Just drop it."

"Adam, come on." Tony rolled his eyes. "Calm down."

" _Don't_ tell me to calm down," Adam snapped. "You don't get to bring up bullshit like this and tell me to _calm down_ after I say I don't want to talk about it, you controlling asshole."

"Controlling?" Tony echoed, his voice pitching up with disbelief.

"Yeah. Controlling like, I say I don't want to talk about something, and you won't take no for an answer." Adam crossed his arms.

Tony looked away, guilty, but before Adam could get out the I-told-you-so forming in his throat, Tony said, "I know I’m aggressive, but it's just because I don't get you. It seems like you’re still terrified of this thing between us. I mean, you're okay with monogamy, but not okay with _talking_? What do you think you're going to say that'll scare me away?"

"You don't think I can, do you?" Adam said. "You think, what, because you're professionally brave, I can't freak you out so bad you're out of here?"

"I _know_ you can't." Tony finally looked at him again, a challenge written in his expression. The lasagna sat on the table, forgotten.

"You don't know shit," Adam said.

"Try me." 

Fine. Fucking _fine_. Because Tony still saw him as someone who was salvageable, and Adam knew better. It was only a matter of time anyway, until Tony realized just how off things were and gave up on him. They'd only made it to six months _because_ of how long he'd been gone. 

And where did he even start? His life had been one shit storm after another. 

"Fine," Adam said. "How about this, just for starters? Do you know how I actually got the job on _American Hero_? I fucked my way into that -- I slept with Jules Cassidy because I knew he knew the producer. Just in case you thought the insane stalker I dropped on his doorstep was the worst thing I ever did to him. It barely makes the top five. And I know literally every member of Team Sixteen is pretty much in love with him, so." 

"So… what?" Tony asked. "I barely know Jules Cassidy. And you were actually on the run from an armed stalker and no one was taking the threat seriously. How else were you supposed to handle that? And so you slept with someone to get a part. I'm sure you're the only one in Hollywood who's ever done that." 

Somehow, his voice stayed steady, wasn't full of the disappointment Adam knew he felt at at least the _American Hero_ revelation. Because Adam's career was the one thing he'd genuinely worked for, fought for. He'd told Tony about it -- how he'd been terrified to move across the country, but had done it anyway; how he'd worked his ass off in the theater and bit parts, trying desperately to build a resume and get a big break. 

He'd been proud of himself, when he described it like that, and Tony had been proud of him. Adam had just always left out the part about Jules. It hadn't exactly been a lie. Adam _had_ been terrified of moving to LA. And he _had_ worked his ass off. The rest was just … details.

But Tony hadn't budged. His expression didn't so much as flicker. And it wasn't fucking fair that Tony could do that, be so goddamn impassive when any normal human should have felt _something_. 

So Adam pushed harder.

"Slept with someone to get a part," he repeated. "Honey, speaking of top fives? That's not even close to most fucked up thing I've gotten for sex."

"Fucked up how?"

"Fucked up like, hey, sailor, it's only fifty bucks if you want me to get in the car," Adam said, practically purring it, as if saying it didn't make him want to wrench open the wine bottle that was abandoned on the counter. Or to drink something a lot stronger than that. He didn't have much liquor in the house, but as soon as Tony left he was probably going to down it all.

"Yeah, right." Tony rolled his eyes.

Fuck it. Adam went for the wine bottle. He didn't say anything, just found the corkscrew, concentrated on it as he opened the bottle. Didn't look up, didn't look at Tony. 

Who finally said, "Holy shit. You weren't joking."

"No, I wasn't." Adam poured himself a glass, full to the brim. His hand shook as he lifted it, spilling tiny rivulets over the rim. He downed the whole thing before he glanced over at Tony, who hadn't moved an inch. "It wasn't usually like that. It was more -- who can I fuck who might let me stay for a few days? Let me use his shower? Will he notice if I grab a few bucks from his wallet?"

"Adam -- "

"There was this cop who used to harass all of us -- you know, kids who were -- who had nowhere to go. And I dunno. I would have let him arrest me instead of … but I'd heard enough horror stories about what would probably happen to a kid like me if he actually dragged me to the station."

"A cop," Tony repeated. "That's… fucked up."

"Could have been worse, I only got the shit kicked out of me a few times, and meth wasn't as big yet, or else… but it's not like I didn't spend as many nights blacked out as I could. And I swallowed pretty much whatever pills people handled me, so that was fun except when it almost killed me -- even that was pretty fun to a point -- but I never tried smack, that was pretty much the only thing I wouldn't do.

"And you know how I said I'm negative and careful?" The words were pouring out of him now, like a dam had broken, and he couldn't even enjoy the horrified look on Tony's face. "Even without doing heroin, that negative is sheer good fucking luck, because I wasn't careful, back then. I've been tested since -- often -- treated the gonorrhea because of fucking course I had STDs, baby, I wouldn't have been quite enough of a mess without them. But you don't have to worry about anything, you can leave and there are no lingering after effects."

"You really think I will, don't you?" Tony asked.

"Vlachic, if I were you, I'd have been out that door five minutes ago. Just grab that take out and go while you can." His hand was shaking again. Maybe that was from how much wine he'd just downed on an empty stomach. 

But Tony finally moved. He walked around the table, took the glass out of Adam's shaking hand, and set it aside. He brushed the hair off of Adam's face, and looked into his eyes.

"Adam, I am not leaving. And that was -- that was a lot, and I don't blame you for being afraid to tell me. But you need to know, I am _not_ leaving you. And any time I walk out that door? I will come back as soon as I can. As long as I'm alive, I will _always_ come back."

Adam shook his head. That was sweet. And stupid. No one was going to stay with him like that. No one ever had, not even Jules, who had promised plenty of times that he'd always be there.

"Adam…" Tony murmured, holding him close.

"My parents threw me out," Adam said, twisting out of that wonderful embrace, the one that made him feel safe. Because Tony was going to _leave_. "I was sixteen. I was on the streets and I haven't seen or spoken to them since. I was -- I hate -- I don't think about it a lot. And I don't want to think about it or talk about it or anything else. And I didn't want you to know, because…"

"Because you think that's how I'll see you," Tony guessed.

"Yeah."

"Well, I don't." Tony drew back enough to really look at Adam. "When I see you, I see someone who went through hell, through no fault of his own. And who had to make hard decisions to keep his head above water. I see someone who survived, and got himself out of that, and put it behind him."

"Tony…" Adam tried. He didn't want to hear this. Tony was wrong about him, but somehow that still wasn't getting through. 

"I see someone so much stronger than he realizes."

"I'm not --"

"You are," Tony said, taking his hands. "And Adam, I'm here. If you want to talk about any of it. Or if you never want to talk about it again, I -- I won't ask you to. I'm sorry I did that. I just want to know you, and be with you, and there's nothing you could ever have done, or said, or _been_ , that would make me feel otherwise."

"I've done a lot of shitty things," Adam said. How did Tony still not get that? "Not because of all of that. Because I like… I've taken people _apart_. Ruined lives. Because I wanted to. Everything I did to Jules Cassidy? I knew what I was doing. I learned exactly what his buttons were and I pushed them until he broke. And I was still doing it, right up until you met me in Boston."

"Adam --"

"I fucked Robin up just as bad. He was a sweet kid who drank too much and didn't know what he wanted. He needed someone to take care of him and instead I wrecked him. He needed rehab and any time he tried to kick me out, I'd hand him another drink. That wasn't because of my parents. That's because I'm a selfish asshole who likes to destroy things."

" _Adam_."

"And I'll do it to you," Adam said, and he was dead serious. " _You're_ a sweet kid, and you've already shown me exactly where you're vulnerable. Do you know what I could do to you?"

"Yes," Tony said, which finally shut Adam up. "I know you could ruin me. One phone call and my career is done. But I trust you."

"You shouldn't."

"But I do." He squeezed Adam's hands. "And the more you talk to me? The more I trust you. Because everything you just told me was in the past. You are more than just what happened to you, and you're better than your worst impulses."

"I'm not," Adam said. "I don't know why you think I am. But if you go now, I won't -- I'll stay here and get drunk and lose your number and never make that call. The longer you stay, the more you give me to use to ruin you, so you should just go!"

"So ruin me," Tony said. He reached into his jeans, found his phone. Scrolled for a second, then handed it to Adam. "Chief Karmody. Just press call, Adam. And you can wreck me."

Adam stared at the phone, could barely focus between his unsteady hand and a sheen of almost-tears in his eyes. His finger twitched and he wanted to make that call. Oh _god_ , he wanted to. It would finally get Tony to leave him alone, and maybe, maybe it would keep Tony safe. Force him out of the Navy. 

"Why are you doing this?" Adam breathed, willing his hand to be steady. 

"Why _aren't_ you?" Tony returned. "You're such a horrible person, so intent on destroying the lives of everyone you touch, well, that's my life right there. I told you, I trust you with it. So go ahead and call, if you want to. Tell the chief who you are and where I am. And then hand the phone to me and I'll tell him it's fine, I'll be back at the base tomorrow and he can begin the discharge process."

Adam shoved the phone down on the counter and turned away. "Don't. Don't tempt me! Do you know how much I want to -- how much I wish --"

"Then why didn't you?" Tony asked softly.

And Adam realized why Tony had done it, and he almost hated Tony for it, and he definitely hated himself. Because someday, when Tony gave up on him, it was going to hurt so much worse.

He didn't say it out loud, and Tony didn't ask him to. Just wrapped those strong arms around him again, and held him while he shook and tried not to cry.

"Yeah," Tony said, acknowledging what Adam hadn't. "I love you, too. And _that's_ why I'm not going anywhere. No matter what you've done in the past or how hard you push me away."

**Three.**  
 _April 3, 2009_

"Okay, the thing is," Tony said, as he made himself a sandwich, "I don't want to bug you. But did you call the guy?"

"The shrink?" Adam clarified. He watched as Tony layered an almost ridiculous amount of meat and mustard onto his bread. It looked like something out of _Scooby-Do_ , except Tony was most definitely not stoned. He was just young, made entirely of muscle, and thought of a five mile run as a light workout. He needed a ridiculous amount of food to sustain all of that.

"Well, I wasn't going to call him that," Tony said. "But yeah. The … therapist."

"Ugh." Adam was not having this discussion again. He knew he had plenty of shit in that mental junk drawer of his, and yes, Tony had a way of bringing it out. But honestly, he didn't even want to talk to Tony about any of it. No way was he talking to a stranger.

"Adam…"

Tony managed to sound both genuinely concerned and genuinely let down. Which was idiotic. Adam was a grown man and he could handle his own life. He didn't need Tony sounding like someone's disappointed dad. The parental thing really wasn't sexy.

Which was the only reason Adam said, "Yes, yes, I called, okay? He's booked for the next few weeks."

"But you made an appointment?"

"Yeah. So like, how do you fit all of that in your mouth, and if you can do that, why can't you deep throat me?" Adam gestured at Tony's ludicrously enormous sandwich.

"I'm not sure those are the actually the same skill set," Tony said, but he was laughing. Adam grinned at him. "When's your appointment?"

"Next month." 

"Before I leave?" Tony asked hopefully, but Adam shook his head. "Oh. Damn. I was thinking -- I mean, if you wanted -- I was gonna try to sneak away and be here in case it was rough."

"Don't worry about me, sailor boy," Adam said. 

"You'll let me know how it goes, though?"

"Isn't that supposed to be private?" Adam asked, then, because Tony's guileless blue eyes could sell his wounded expression so well, Adam had to add, " _Yes_ , obviously. I don't see what you think I'm going to get out of this anyway. I'm fine."

That, at least, brought Tony up short. He wasn't going to just say that Adam was fucked up, but he obviously thought it. Which was why he'd been harping on this shrink thing in the first place. He'd mentioned it a few times in passing over the last few months, before just straight up telling Adam he thought Adam should be in therapy -- and oh yeah, he'd asked the guy who a few SEALs talked to about the shit they dealt with if he could recommend someone in LA. He'd given Adam the name and phone number, and, well… it hadn't been an ultimatum to call, but it had been a lot of pressure.

Which was why Adam had told him that he'd called and made an appointment, which he hadn't, and wasn't going to. 

Adam laughed, which wasn't very nice. "Wow, can't find a polite way to say, 'I think you're a headcase, Adam, but don't worry, I still want to sleep with you,' huh?"

"I don't," Tony said, putting down his ridiculous sandwich. 

"Don't want to sleep with me? Well, now I'm just offended."

Tony rolled his eyes as he clarified, "Don't think you're a headcase."

"Sure you don't. I bet you recommend therapy to all your best friends. Not to mention all the guys you bone."

"You're the only guy I bone, and you know that," Tony said. "And as a matter of fact, yeah, sometimes one of my teammates -- you know, friends -- is obviously struggling with something and I _do_ say hey, why don't you go talk to a pro about it? There's a reason they make one available to all of us."

"So you think I'm struggling," Adam said.

"Are you still having panic attacks? Because yes, I would define that as struggling." 

Adam was, and was not going to admit that, even though it was doubtlessly obvious to Tony, who could always read him like a freaking book. So he shifted the conversation to one he knew would distract Tony from the whole shrink thing. "How about this: instead of me seeing a shrink, you just quit your job. The less often you throw yourself into harm's way, the less I panic." Adam gave him a bright, shit-eating smile, which Tony met with a blank expression.

In other words, the expression he got when he was trying not to tell Adam to fuck off. Adam wasn't stupid, and he could read Tony almost as well as Tony could read him. Tony thought he was impassive, but he only got like that when Adam pissed him off. He didn't scowl, he didn't glare, he just went blank.

Same thing, in the end.

Finally, Tony's jaw unclenched. "I'm not. Quitting. My job. I know it's hard for you --"

"You have no idea --"

"--but it's what I have to do."

"No, it's what you decided --"

"It's what. I. Have. To do," Tony said, enunciating very clearly, and wow. Adam had seen him plenty riled up before, but never quite this pissed. Then again, Adam had never directly suggested Tony quit the teams before. "Maybe a shrink will help you figure that out."

"You're the one who _chose_ a job where your life is in danger, but sure, I'm the one who needs therapy. Let's talk about your death wish, Vlachic," Adam said. "Let's talk about why the only job you could ever love is one where you're throwing yourself in front of bullets and onto grenades. Let's talk about you getting shot and then concussed in the mountains and barely getting out. Let's talk about how you could have _fucking died_!"

"I didn't." Tony's voice was still steady. "I was fine."

"That time," Adam said. "Don't pretend you know you will be next time. You don't know shit except that you'll be in danger."

"I know this will all be a lot easier for you to cope with if you have someone you can talk to about it."

"Too bad I can't talk to any of my friends," Adam said. "You want me to talk to someone, but not in public, right? Only if there's confidentiality."

"I'm not having this argument with you," Tony said.

"Sounds like you are to me."

"I'm -- " Tony cut himself off. He'd clenched his fists -- his whole body, really -- but he relaxed slowly, practically a muscle at a time. "I don't _want_ to have this argument with you. I just really think that after everything you've been through, talking to someone with actual training would be helpful. I'm glad you made the appointment. There. That's all."

Adam didn't do anything. He didn't say anything, didn't move, didn't even blink.

So he had no idea what his tell was when Tony said, "Jesus Christ, you didn't even do it, did you?"

"Tony --"

" _Did_ you?"

Adam was an excellent liar. If this hadn't spiraled into a fight, Tony wouldn't even have thought to question it. As it was, Adam probably could spin it -- offer to show Tony his phone's call log or his planner or something, and Tony wouldn't take him up on the offer, call his bluff, because Tony trusted him. Tony thought he was lying, but didn't _want_ him to be.

And he almost did it.

Instead, he said, "I don't need therapy. I need you, safe."

"So you lied to me." Tony's voice was cold. "You stood there, and you lied to my face."

"Because you wouldn't let it go," Adam said. His voice was definitely not as steady as Tony's.

And Tony finally moved. Away from the counter, past Adam, towards the living room where he'd kicked off his sandals and tossed down his jacket. Which he was now picking up.

"Tony --"

"Don't." Tony jammed his sandals on. "I can't talk to you right now."

"It was a little white --"

"No." Tony turned back to him, and he didn't look blank anymore. He was pissed -- and somewhere buried under it, hurt. "You know what I do when I want you to shut up and get off my back? I kiss you. I don't lie. I need to go."

Shit, shit, shit. "Tony, don't. I'm sorry. I'm really --"

"I know." Tony swallowed. "But it's not okay with me. You're pissed off? You tell me. You're panicking? You tell me. You can tell me _anything_. But you do not fucking lie to me, Adam!"

"You are blowing it way out of proportion!"

"No. I'm not." Tony leveled that look on him once again. "You know what people say about you? What everyone says about you? That you're a liar. You've said it yourself plenty of times. But I never thought you'd actually lie to me."

It had been such a tiny thing. Stupid, thoughtless. Adam stared as Tony walked to the door. He hadn't meant anything by it, it had been the path of least resistance because Tony _still_ didn't know how to let things go. Adam just hadn't wanted to fight. 

And now, after everything, one little white lie that didn't mean anything was sending Tony out the door.

"Wait, please," Adam said, and he was so fucking desperate. Grateful that Tony stopped, hand on the doorknob. "Please don't go."

"I need to cool off," Tony said, not turning around. 

"Are you coming back?" Adam asked, his voice breaking. 

"Yeah," Tony said. Which was something, at least. But somehow, knowing Tony would come back didn't make it easier to watch him walk out. Just to calm down. Just to get out of the apartment. He was coming back. 

He was.

Adam glanced out the window as Tony took off at a brisk walk, disappearing down the street. 

Adam was a liar, but Tony probably was, too. Because people who walked out on Adam didn't tend to come back. 

 

**Two.**  
 _February 22, 2010_

It was the weirdest thing. Adam looked back on his relationships and couldn't really remember when he'd been so … content. Tony was back after another of his long non-vacations out of the country, and had been for a few days. So they'd already gotten through their frenzied sex marathon and had settled into the more domestic part of Tony's visit, where they were content to just spend time together. 

Adam was sitting on the couch with Tony, who was just flipping channels. He was curled up against Tony's side, like it was a normal, casual thing, like a regular couple. Even though Adam was definitely going to get Tony naked again in not too long, this was really nice, too.

Which was why Adam's stomach dropped and he panicked the second Tony muted the TV and said, "Hey, I have a … a question, I guess."

But he was an actor, and he could play it cool. So he just gave Tony a vaguely sleepy look and asked, "What's up?"

"This is stupid." Tony wasn't looking at him. He was staring down at his hands. Then he finally did look up and Adam couldn't read him at all. "But it's been bugging me, so I have to ask, you know?"

"Ask what?" 

"Okay, so just like a few weeks ago… just a few weeks ago, Lopez got this care package from his sister. Socks, instant coffee, photos of her kids, you know, the usual."

"Sure," Adam said.

"Well, she threw in a magazine. _Us Weekly_. And we were bored, so I was kind of flipping through it, and…" He ran a hand through his hair and Adam wished he'd just get to the freaking point. "Anyway, uh, there were pictures in it. Of you."

"Yeah," Adam said. He wasn't nearly the source of gossip and scandal he used to be, considering he was no longer out clubbing until all hours, but he still had plenty of paparazzi photographing him. He showed up in magazines a lot. "So… you had a question?"

"They were pictures of you and some guy." Tony looked away from him again.

Adam blinked. He was photographed a lot, and yeah, with guys a lot. The paps were always hoping to catch him and some guy, since it wasn't like they had any idea why Adam had cleaned up his act. And Adam played that to his advantage plenty -- his agent planted lots of stories for people to speculate on, because that speculation got people interested in Adam and his life. Adam didn't even know which ones had jumped from Perez all the way to _Us Weekly_ , let alone which might have somehow been scandalous enough to get to Tony like this.

"Tony," Adam said, shaking his head. "Whatever you saw, it was nothing, okay?"

"Okay," Tony said, but still wouldn't meet his gaze.

"Jesus Christ, Tony, if I was going to cheat on you, do you think I'd do it somewhere I'd get photographed?" Adam snapped.

"You get photographed everywhere," Tony said, and when Adam just stared at him, "Shit. I didn't mean that like that. I didn't think you were -- I _know_ you weren't cheating on me."

"So then what the hell are you asking me about?" Adam demanded, and he knew it sounded snippy but seriously, what the fuck? Even aside from the logistical aspect he'd mentioned, he wouldn't cheat on Tony. They'd been together for almost two years. Adam had never been faithful so long before -- but he'd never loved anyone like he loved Tony before.

But then again, he'd only ever been in one relationship that had lasted this long, and that was with Jules, and Adam had told Tony exactly how that had ended. With Adam inviting his new boyfriend crash in Jules's place while Jules was OCONUS, and Jules tossing him out. So yeah, he used to be a serial cheater and a total asshole. But that was before Tony -- and for all Tony was out of the country and unreachable for weeks, sometimes months, at a time, Adam had never even considered being unfaithful. 

"Sorry," Tony said. "I'm sorry. I just -- the guys know. About me -- us. They don't say anything, but they know, and they all saw it, too. And they couldn't come out and ask, but… I do trust you. But even if they could ask, what am I supposed to say? I don't know who the hell that guy was."

Something really unpleasant began uncurling in Adam's mind, the memory of Jules like a ghost sitting on the couch with them. "Did it ever occur to you that he might be my friend? That I am, in fact, friends with other men? And I speak to them, sometimes even shake their hands?"

"Men make up half the population, so yes, Adam, I'm aware." Now Tony's voice went sour, but he took a deep breath. "I don't want to fight about this."

"Too fucking bad," Adam snapped, "because you just accused me of cheating on you, which I didn't, and I think I have a right to be pissed!"

"I'm sorry," Tony said. "I don't think you were --"

"You just think I shouldn't be photographed with my friends because it might embarrass you in front of your teammates?" Adam interrupted. "Or you just don't want me photographed at all? Even though staying famous is _actually my job_."

"And here, I thought your job was acting."

"Screw you. I'm not sorry I'm a celebrity. And it's not like your job doesn't come with tons of bullshit I have to just fucking deal with whether I want to or not!" Adam rocked up to his feet, and before Tony could start yelling at him about how his job saved lives and stopped wars and all the reasons it was important, he added, "And I have to say, this jealousy bullshit? Not. Hot."

"I'm not jealous!" Tony answered, finally snapping a little, standing up to yell back at Adam. 

"You're not jealous, you just think I'm cheating on you because some magazine took my picture while I was standing next to someone else. Sure."

"You weren't standing -- you were having breakfast with -- no, fuck. Stop this." Tony shook his head. "I am not accusing you of cheating because I'm jealous. I'm not accusing you of cheating _at all_. I know you wouldn't."

"That's a lie," Adam said.

 

"It is not. I'm not making any accusations and I _don't fucking lie to you_ , Adam!" Tony made a strangled, angry noise, then tried again. "I only asked because I knew, okay, I _knew_ that it wasn't what it looked like, and I just wanted to know what it was. That's why I said it was stupid. It doesn't matter what it was. Because I know what it wasn't."

Adam scowled back at him, but couldn't dispute that. Tony never lied to him. Not little white lies. Not lies designed to make him feel better. He wouldn't even lie and say he'd be fine when he went wheels up -- he always said he'd do his best. But never that everything would be okay, when he had no way of knowing.

"Will you please just… tell me who the guy was?" Tony asked. He sat back down and gestured at the couch. "Please, come on."

Adam sat, if only because it was so rare that Tony fucked up like this. In fact, in their whole relationship, Adam couldn't remember it ever being Tony who'd put his foot in his mouth, who'd freaked out or broken down. He was sometimes a bit patronizing, but their fights still always felt like they were about Adam's drama, Adam's meltdowns. Tony putting up with Adam's endless bullshit.

So okay. Adam could do this. Be the mature one. Sure.

" _Us Weekly_?" Adam asked. "I don't have any issues lying around. Did it say his name? What did he look like?"

"It was, uh, Luke something? Or Lucas?"

And suddenly, yeah, Adam understood. "Lucas," he said, nodding. He knew who Lucas was, remembered when and why those pictures had been taken, and got why Tony might be a little stupid about them. Lucas was young, pretty, and had very blue eyes. Which was well known to be Adam's exact type.

Which was why his agent had set the whole thing up. But the kicker was, Adam _had_ actually thought about Tony when he'd agreed to meet Lucas for brunch, where they knew there'd be photographers. But Tony hadn't called that week, and after that it had slipped Adam's mind, because the whole thing was so run of the mill for him.

He grabbed his phone, but didn't bother googling for the magazine's photos, just scrolled through his own until he found a few pictures he'd snapped, selfies of himself and Lucas. He took pictures every time he encountered another celebrity, no matter how B-list, and usually posted a couple online himself. They always got good buzz, and there was a reason Adam had six million twitter followers. That was one game he was good at.

"This the kid? And I do mean _kid_ , Tony. He's 19, which is a bit young, even for me." Adam passed him the phone.

"Yeah," Tony said.

"Okay, then. Yes, his name is Lucas, and he was a runner up on _American Idol_ last season. His first album drops in about two weeks. You get it?"

"Sure," Tony said. "So you're friends?"

Tony did not get it, apparently, even if he thought he did. "No. I mean, sure, whatever, he's a nice kid. But we're with the same talent agency. They needed his name and picture out there, top of mind, before the album comes out. Easiest, cheapest way to do that? Get him in a scandal that's just big enough to be noticed, but not big enough to hurt his reputation."

Tony was smart and it was obvious the moment he got it. "The article -- it wasn't much of one, just a paragraph with those photos -- it called you a cradle robber."

"Yeah," Adam said. "Sounds about right. That brunch is the only time I've ever met the kid. My agent asked me to do it, so I did, because hey, getting my face in magazines is good for my career, too."

"Okay," Tony said. "That makes sense. I shouldn't believe everything I read, right? I feel pretty stupid now."

"You're about to feel stupider." Adam swiped to the next picture of him and Lucas, and handed the phone to Tony. "Because I did actually think about you. I knew people would assume -- were _supposed_ to assume -- it was a thing. But I didn't think _you'd_ think that, Jesus."

Tony was examining the picture, and it took him long enough that Adam's face began to heat up. It had been completely stupid -- he'd worn the earring Tony had given him. Obviously that wasn't the sign he'd thought it would be, the obvious signal that he only wanted Tony and everything else was bullshit. Or maybe the pictures that had made the magazine didn't show it clearly. 

He'd almost gotten too uncomfortable, ready to snatch his phone back, when that same understanding dawned for Tony. "The earring. Wow. You were wearing… yeah, okay, I feel even stupider." He set the phone down and looked up at Adam, and his cheeks were genuinely red. "I'm so sorry for all of this. I really didn't think you were cheating. I knew it was something else, I just didn't know what. I swear."

"I believe you," Adam said, and the crazy thing was that he did. But he still smirked and added, "You can still make it up to me, though."

"You know what," Tony said, closing the space between them on the couch. "I bet I can."

Tony kissed him, and it was almost ridiculous how easy Adam was for that, how much he wanted it, how he knew he'd forgive just about anything when Tony kissed him.

Then Tony slid off the couch and settled between Adam's legs, hands going to Adam's belt buckle, and fuck yeah. All was forgiven.

**One.**  
 _October 15, 2010_

Tony pinned Adam's wrists to the bed and kissed him and kissed him and _kissed_ him, and god, it was perfect. Adam panted against his mouth, bucking his hips, desperate for a little purchase, a little friction. Tony was teasing him, and it was driving him fucking crazy because it had been months that Tony had been OCONUS. Which meant months of no contact except for furtive phone calls when Tony could manage them, and platonic emails because guys didn't tell their guy friends how much they loved them and who knew if the government was monitoring military email accounts? It sucked how paranoid Tony had to be. Adam couldn't call him without being called first, and he couldn't really send letters or care packages. 

And oh yeah, it also meant months of celibacy. 

And panic attacks. 

Tony had been out of touch for so long Adam had been sure he was dead. Maybe he and the other guys who knew about Adam were all dead, which was why no one had called. But the news, for all it covered nasty situations, didn't get into details and didn't report any SEAL deaths. When Tony had finally called, Adam had actually started to cry on the phone, but all Tony had been able to say was, "Yeah, things got nasty, we all got a bit banged up, but everyone's fine."

But here he was now. Home, safe, and fine. 

And their enforced celibacy was coming to an end, thank god.

"Tony," Adam moaned. "Tony, I love you, but you are killing me." He wriggled his hands, trying to get free.

"You're squirming," Tony said, grinning. They weren't even naked yet -- the second they'd crossed into the bedroom, Tony had all but thrown Adam down on the bed, pinning him before he could get his bearings. "Now, come on, be a little patient here. You know I'll make it good for you, baby."

"I know," Adam panted. "But what about this? You let me up -- " He broke off for a second, as Tony teased him, a knee nudging his thighs wider apart. "Fuck, Tony. You let me up, and roll over, and I fucking ride you until you cry."

Tony's eyes went wide and his grip went weak, which was enough to allow Adam to yank his hands free. Tony let him roll over, and for a change, it was Adam doing the manhandling. 

Adam climbed on top of Tony and stripped his own shirt off, earning him an appreciative whistle. Then Tony's hand was on his back, pulling him down into a kiss, even as his hands worked under Tony's shirt, hiking it up. Which put them in a bit of a bind, because he couldn't get Tony's shirt off without pulling away from the kiss, but Tony didn't seem terribly interested in letting go of him or stopping kissing him. 

But if there was anything better than kissing Tony, it was kissing Tony while Tony was naked, and besides, Adam had a promise to keep, here. Adam pulled away just enough to yank Tony's shirt up, but Tony grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

"Tony?" Adam asked.

"It's… I got a little banged up," Tony said, echoing what he'd told Adam weeks ago, on the phone. "That's all."

Adam frowned, hands still caught in the fabric of Tony's t-shirt. If it had been weeks, Tony should have healed up; if he hadn't, then it must have been pretty bad. But Tony let his wrist go, so Adam pulled his shirt off.

Yeah. It was bad. Not a gunshot wound, but a mess of still-healing scar tissue across Tony's left shoulder, down onto his chest. The skin was pulled too tight around the scars, white and shiny. It wasn't a huge wounded area, but it was big enough that Adam couldn't help but stare.

"What happened?" Adam asked, rolling off of Tony, all thoughts of sex forgotten. "You told me you were fine!"

"I am fine," Tony said. "I just wanted to warn you before you saw. It'll all be okay -- light scarring when it's all healed up --"

"What. Happened?" Adam demanded again. 

Tony sat up. "We don’t have to discuss this right now, do we? Weren't you supposed to be riding me until I cry?"

"God damn it, Tony, _what happened_?"

Tony let out a deep breath. "We were in a town, it was being bombed, I was trying to clear a building and there was a fire. I got out -- I got _kids_ out -- but it was rough going for awhile."

"You were in a burning building," Adam repeated. "And you're scarred like that. Jesus Christ, were you actually on fire?"

"I needed to get the door open and my hands were full," Tony said.

"And the door was on fire."

"Yes. Adam --"

" _Fuck_." Adam stood up and grabbed his shirt, panic welling up inside him. Tony was right there in front of him, but he could see it happen anyway. Tony in a burning building, dodging bombs, his uniform on fire. Somehow Adam didn't think stop, drop, and roll was really possible in the midst of all that, and if it had been that easy Tony wouldn't have wound up with so fucking much scar tissue.

"Adam, hey." Tony stood, too, reaching for him, but Adam jerked away. "Calm down, I'm fine."

"How bad was it?" Adam demanded. "Third degree? Second?"

"Third," Tony said. "Surrounded by second, but I'm really okay. Come back to bed, Adam, I'm fine."

"You didn't tell me." Adam stared at him. Third degree burns were serious shit -- he'd done a movie about fire fighters, which probably wasn't accurate overall, but he was pretty sure the part where serious burns destroyed nerves and required skin grafts was accurate enough. "You didn't recover from this overnight, how long were you in the hospital?"

"A few weeks," Tony said. "They shipped me to Germany, I was perfectly safe while I was --"

"Fuck you!" Adam turned away from him, his chest too tight, his breathing too shallow. "You were in Germany, you could have called me, told me what was going on!"

"I didn't want you to worry --"

"You told me you were fine!"

Tony was on his feet now, too, and he reached for Adam, who pulled away, snarling, "Don't touch me."

"Adam, calm down, please," Tony said. "It was nasty, but I knew I'd recover, so I didn't want to worry you when there was nothing to worry about."

Adam wheeled around, facing him finally, his gaze dropping to the ugly scarring and then snapping back up to Tony's angelic face. "You lied to me," Adam said, still not quite able to breathe.

"I didn't."

"You were in a fucking hospital for weeks and you didn't fucking tell me! You knew I'd want to know, don't you dare pretend you didn't, and you decided not to worry me. By fucking lying and saying you were fine. "

"I _was_ fine. I just didn't tell you the details --"

"You. Lied." Adam stared at him, at the scars, and felt the thing they'd built between them shatter. "I can't do this. Get out."

"Adam --"

"You obviously don't -- don't trust me or respect me if you won't tell me the truth and -- I can't. I can't do this!" Adam was full on shaking now. He staggered back, letting the wall catch him, when what he really needed was to sit down and try to breathe. But if he did that, Tony would come sit with him, try to help him, and he didn't want Tony's help. He wanted Tony gone. Viscerally, desperately.

"I'm sorry," Tony said, and he looked like he might cry. "I just… I know that you get scared and I didn't want to… didn't want to worry you."

"Well now what the fuck am I supposed to do, because I can't believe you when you say you're okay," Adam said. "I mean it, Tony, get the fuck out of my apartment, because I'm done."

Tony shook his head, stepped forward, and grabbed Adam's hand. Adam yanked it free and repeated, "Get. Out."

"You don't mean that. You don't want me to go," Tony said.

"Get your shirt on and get the fuck out."

"Adam --"

"Get. The fuck. Out."

"Adam." This time Tony went for him more aggressively, pulling him into a tight embrace. Which should have helped, should have made Adam feel safe and secure, but instead it just pissed him off. "Listen to me, I'm really sorry, but you don't want to --"

"Let go of me," Adam said, refusing to give in to what Tony wanted. He went stiff as a board, not moving at all, because he knew he'd have no hope of forcing Tony to let go. "Let go, and then get out."

Tony let go, and there were actual tears in his eyes. "Adam, please. Adam. _Adam_."

Adam shook his head. "Go."

Tony fell back, grabbing his shirt. He looked torn, and Adam knew it had to be killing him. He wanted to stay, he wanted to fix this, but there was no fix. Tony was just going to keep going into dangerous situations, keep getting injured, and someday get killed. And now Adam couldn't even trust him to tell the truth about it all.

"I'll go," Tony said. "And give you some space. But I'll be back."

"Don't bother," Adam said. "I'll change the locks."

"I'll call," Tony said.

How the hell was he not getting this? Adam forced himself to enunciate clearly, sharply, "Don't. Bother. I don't stay friends with my exes, and kid, that's the category you're in now. It's been fun, it's over, now get out of my apartment and get out of my life."

Tony just stared at him for a long moment. Adam stared back. He didn't play any games, didn't retreat, didn't say any of the dozen unforgivably nasty things that came into his mind, things he knew would piss Tony off enough to get him to leave. He just waited, and Tony was the one who flinched first.

"Okay," Tony said, and he sounded shaky. "If that's what you want. But I love you and -- call me. If you change your mind."

"I won't," Adam said.

He didn't tell Tony he loved him, too. Didn't tell Tony to be aggressive or stay alert. Just watched Tony leave his bedroom, and listened to Tony walk down the hall. The front door opened and then closed again.

Alone in his apartment, Adam finally slid down the wall and cried.

**Interlude.**  
 _December 23, 2010_

Tony was so fucking exhausted. He was in Germany, again, recovering, _again_. He'd managed to break a couple of ribs on a bad landing, but that was nothing major enough to require medical leave on its own. He'd just also managed to pick up a nasty cold that was making him miserable. That wouldn't have required any kind of leave, either, except that Team Sixteen was on its way home soon. They'd sent him ahead to Germany for some recovery time, and everyone else was just arriving. They'd miss Christmas with their families, but only by a few days.

At least Tony wasn't on bed rest this time, but he was still fucking exhausted. It had been a tough few months -- well, no worse than usual, it just felt that way because he was so goddamn miserable. He kept waiting to shake the funk off, but aside from when there was action, he just… couldn't. And he wasn't even looking forward to getting home, because what the hell was waiting for him there? Literally nothing but an empty apartment. He wouldn't even be able to see his family -- they were all at home in Connecticut now, but would be scattered again by the time Tony touched down in San Diego.

And even though he'd call his parents and his sisters and his cousins and everyone else, so what? He couldn't call Adam, and much as he loved his family, Adam was the one he couldn't stop missing.

Still, maybe being home wouldn't be bad. He could at least find a distraction. Before Adam, Tony had managed to find guys to hook up with, even to date casually. He could find someone to exorcise Adam from his brain.

He just didn't want to. He wanted Adam, end of story. 

"Hey, hey, Chickie!" Izzy Zanella's voice rang out behind him. Which meant the rest of Team Sixteen had arrived.

Tony sighed, tried to put on an expression that was, if not happy, than at least less obviously miserable. He knew he had one hell of a poker face when he wanted to, but sustaining it for months had been difficult. He had no idea, at this point, if his teammates knew anything was wrong. And even if they did, well, none of them were going to ask. Just in case he actually answered.

Tony waited, and a moment later, Zanella's arm was around his shoulder. Lopez was at his other side, and Jenk and Gillman were crowding around him.

"Dude, congrats!" Zanella continued. "About freaking time, huh?"

Tony blinked at him. "What?"

"You didn't hear?" Lopez asked.

Tony glanced around the clique of guys who made up his best friends in the teams -- the same guys who _knew_. And they were all grinning at him, overjoyed at… something.

"Apparently not," Tony said. "What happened?"

"Don't Ask, Don't Tell," Lopez said. "It's going the way of the dinosaurs."

Tony stared at them. His knees felt a little weak and his synapses stopped firing. 

"Are you okay?" Lopez asked, slipping into medic mode.

Tony shook him off. "Yeah, I'm fine, I'm… what? When?"

"Yesterday, DC time," Gillman supplied. "It looks like it'll take at least six months to go into effect, but…"

"And we all have to do sensitivity training," Zanella said, laughing. "Like, they don't think we're a bunch of sensitive, new age guys? I, personally, am very enlightened. I mean, Fishboy here, maybe not so much, but the rest of us…"

Tony managed a half-hearted laugh at that, and at the look on Gillman's face. And then it became a real laugh, maybe a little manic, because holy shit, DADT was done for. In just a few months, Tony would be able to stop worrying, and actually be able to be himself. To be out to the world at large, for the first time in his life.

Zanella pounded his back -- which hurt a little because he still had those freaking broken ribs -- but hell if he was going to complain. Because this was a win. And it wasn't until he'd excused himself to jeers about who he was about to call in celebration that it hit him.

This was a general win, but maybe more than that. Maybe, if he was allowed to be out, if they could be public… maybe it would alleviate enough of Adam's fears to get him a second chance.

It wouldn't fix everything, and god, Tony could still see the wrecked look on Adam's face when he'd realized Tony had lied. It had only been by omission -- Tony had been fine when he told Adam he was, but Adam was right, and he'd been avoiding telling the full truth. After swearing he'd never lie.

He wouldn't do it again. If Adam gave him another chance, the day the repeal went into effect he would update every single form he had on file, list Adam as his primary contact. And he'd be able to actually _be_ in contact -- at least when he was anywhere with communications. He wouldn't have to do the stupid, furtive thing anymore, with sporadic calls when he could get a moment alone, and emails where he called Adam _bro_.

He was the only one in the barracks at the moment, though he was pretty sure everyone else would be in shortly. Which meant he only had a few minutes to act. He grabbed his phone and used it to check the news -- and sure enough, DADT was dying. Yes, it would take awhile for the repeal to go into effect, and Tony would have to stay closeted until then, but soon…

After that, he hesitated. He'd respected Adam's request for him to stay away, but he still had Adam's number. Instead of pushing call, he flipped back to the internet.

Adam had a public twitter account, and a facebook, and an instagram, and … well, if it was social, Adam had it. Adam had never posted on any of his accounts about the breakup -- which was no surprise, because he'd never posted anything about the relationship, either. He hadn't been able to. But Tony still checked all of those accounts stupidly regularly, because… because he missed Adam. He wanted to see him, and couldn't, so instead he did this. Which was just wallowing in misery, as Adam posted about his life, pictures of his friends, and links to gossip sites where he was now, once again, becoming a regular. 

He didn't really expect to see anything important, but holy shit. The most recent tweet was, _fuck yeah repeal _. No punctuation, no other explanation or context.__

That was something.

Tony pressed the call button and began counting rings. There was a really good chance Adam wouldn't answer, he knew that, but -- 

"Hey, sailor boy."

"Hey!" Tony's whole mood lifted even further. "I didn't think you'd answer, but I… I had to call, because…"

"Because DADT, yeah," Adam said.

"I'm going to be home in a few days," Tony said. "I was hoping… I know the repeal isn't in effect yet, but I was hoping maybe… it changes things, doesn't it?"

There was a long silence, then a sigh, and then, "I'm sorry."

And just like that, Tony's good mood fell apart. "Adam, please, come on. I screwed up once, but I… I still think about you all the time. I love you."

"Shit," Adam mumbled. "I wish you hadn't… hadn't called. This is why I'm not friends with my exes, this is -- fuck. Tony, I'm seeing someone."

"You… oh." Tony leaned back on his bunk, shut his eyes, and because he was a glutton for punishment, asked, "Is it serious?"

"I don't know. But I think it's headed there," Adam said. "It's good."

"Oh," Tony said again. The world crumbled even further around him, because the absolute kicker was, he was happy for Adam. He'd always wanted Adam to be happy. Adam had been through so much shit, was still recovering from it in so many ways. He wanted good things for Adam.

He wanted to _be_ a good thing for Adam. But if not him, well… he was glad someone was.

Even if it had happened really, really fast.

"I should go," Adam said.

"Yeah," Tony said. "I just… congrats, I guess. I won't… won't bother you again. Goodbye."

He cut the connection before he could start to babble, then set his phone aside, sank down in the uncomfortable bunk and shut his eyes. He still had the tail end of that cold, and was exhausted. Which was as good an excuse as any for him to pretend to be asleep before anyone else came in.

 

**Zero.**  
 _September 20, 2011_

Tony really should have seen it coming, considering they were doing training exercises on the base at Coronado when the repeal finally went into effect. They'd finished up for the day, Tony was changing back into his street clothes, and really, the only surprise was that it was Gillman and not Zanella who said, "So, I'm guessing you've got big plans up in Hollywood tonight?" and slapped him on the back.

A few people were looking over at them. Obviously, the guys who knew, but there were a few others, too. Tony shot Dan an annoyed look. He hadn't exactly figured out how he wanted to come out to everyone yet, but…

Well, fuck it.

Plus, he hadn't exactly told the guys who already knew what had happened with Adam. They apparently hadn't noticed he was no longer sneaking off every spare weekend he could. But then again, it wasn't like he'd told them when he was going in the first place, and since he had an apartment in San Diego where he'd been living for years, they probably couldn't tell the difference.

But it had been almost a year. Almost a year since Adam had dumped him, and since Adam had moved on. Almost a year of seeing Adam with his boyfriend, some photographer, on online gossip sites. Almost a year of lurking around Adam's twitter and instagram, staring longingly at photos.

Almost a year of being pathetic and miserable and unable to move on, because he was still in love. None of the handful of guys he'd hooked up with could compare; none of them had even had enough of a spark for Tony to consider seeing more than once. They'd been perfectly okay guys. Nice enough, hot enough. Good enough in bed.

But they weren't Adam.

So yeah, fuck it.

Tony pitched his voice a little loud, figuring he might as well rip off two bandaids at once -- come out to anyone who happened to be around, and let his friends know the truth, finally.

"No," he said. "No plans. The guy I was dating in Hollywood dumped me."

There was a long, stunned moment of silence, and the oxygen content in the room went down as people inhaled sharply. Tony looked up, stared around the room, and waited.

A few people looked disgusted or pissed off. Mostly people looked surprised.

But Lopez finally spoke up: "Well, that sucks. You were really into him."

"Yeah." Tony slammed his locker shut and started for the door, but then there was Lopez at his elbow, and the guys catching up to him quickly.

Not just catching up, he realized. Standing between him and anyone who was grumbling in the locker room. Because sensitivity training could only do so much, and there were still going to be people who really, really didn't like Tony now that they knew.

"When did that happen?" Gillman pressed, as they headed out to the parking lot.

"A year ago. Look, just because I can talk about it doesn't mean I want to, okay?" 

"A year? Shit, dude," Zanella said. "That sucks. Explains why you've been so grumpy, though."

"I have not…" Tony shook his head. He actually had. 

"You know what you need to do," Zanella continued, because he wasn't a guy who knew how to shut up, ever. "What you need to do, now that you can, right, is go out and get your game on and get laid."

"I have," Tony said. "What, you think I was celibate the whole time I was on the DL? Like, since college?" He shook his head. "Whatever. I'll see you in a couple days."

"Wait." Zanella actually stepped between Tony and his car, blocking his ability to open the door. "No way, screw all this. You broke up with your boyfriend and couldn't tell us until now, I guess, but you know what we do when one of our friends gets dumped? We take him out, get him wasted."

"When have you ever done that?" Tony rolled his eyes.

"When Minnie and I…" Lopez shrugged. 

And yeah, they _had_ done that, hadn't they? Even though Lopez wasn't a huge drinker. He'd been really down when his girlfriend had moved, and they had decided against the distance thing, and, well… yeah. It was Zanella's idea, but Tony had gone along with it. They'd gotten Lopez completely trashed, and the night had devolved into round after round of _but I love you, man_ , and carrying him home.

Tony sighed. "I don't suppose if I say no, you'll all just let it freaking go? It was a year ago. I'm over it."

The guys around him exchanged looks, and it was Gillman who said, "What happened to your poker face? It's usually better than this."

And Zanella who said, "We're going out."

And Lopez who said, "I'll drive."

And the next thing Tony knew, he was in Lopez's car, and then they were at one of the bars near the base, and after five shots the world was spinning a little bit and he couldn't stop talking.

"I know… I know how pathetic it is," Tony explained, as Zanella put another drink down in front of him. Apparently they'd finished with shots because this was larger, something amber with ice. "But I love him. He moved on, and I didn't, and it's pathetic, but I just can't. Because he's _it_ for me. You know? I think he's it. And he's over me."

"Oh, shit," Gillman said. Tony blinked. That didn't seem like the response he'd expected, but it was…

"Shouldn't you be drinking something fruitier, Vlachic?"

Someone had stepped up behind them, trying to flag the bartender down, and yeah, oh shit. Tony knew gossip would spread, and he barely knew the guys who were now glaring at him and making jokes about him being fruity. Great.

"Hey, how about you guys move along down the bar?" Gillman tried, coming to stand next to Tony like some kind of honor guard.

"How about you get the fuck out of here?" the guy answered, and that was directly to Tony.

Tony tried to stand up but the world spun around him. Lopez grabbed him, keeping him from toppling, and Zanella returned, "How about either you all fuck off or we take this outside?"

"Is there a problem, here?"

And oh shit, again. Cosmo Richter had appeared somehow, towering over even Zanella, with those freaky, terrifying eyes of his. And Tony just wanted to give up, because he had so freaking much respect for Richter, and if Richter looked at him with that flat, disgusted expression --

But he didn't.

He had somehow shouldered his way in to stand next to Gillman, and he was very clearly talking to the guys who'd been calling Tony god only knew what behind his back. Who probably would to his face, next time they saw him. It wasn't going to end well for anyone.

But whoever had started it just said, "No. No problem, Chief."

"Good," Richter said.

He didn't tell them to get lost, or to go drink somewhere else, but apparently they did anyway, hustling back outside. Tony's head swam and he wasn't sure what to say, so he didn't say anything, but Lopez said, "Thanks, Chief."

Richter nodded, and Tony remembered suddenly that he was Robin Chadwick's brother-in-law. Robin Cassidy, rather. He'd changed his name. And Richter had been in that wedding, hadn't he? Not just at it, but like, part of it, because he and Robin were family. And he was friends with Jules Cassidy, too. Which meant, probably, Richter didn't have a problem with gays in the military or anywhere else. And probably he didn't have a problem with Tony. 

"Everything okay, here?" Richter finally said, after flagging down the bartender himself. 

Tony finished his drink, and Zanella got him _another_ , and said, "We're just trying to get V-man here through his broken heart, so he can get over that loser and go have fun being young and hot and out."

"He's not a loser," Tony slurred into his drink.

Richter actually looked a little surprised. "I didn't know you'd been seeing anyone since Wyndham."

Tony almost fell off his stool again. "How did you know about Adam?" he managed, at the same time Gillman asked, "How did you know about Tony?"

Richter fixed them with a look that made Tony feel like he'd been sent to the principal's office or something, then said, "My family has an… interest in keeping track of Adam Wyndham."

Because they all hated him. Tony wanted to object, to tell Richter that that wasn't fair and Adam really had moved on, but he couldn't find the words with the world spinning around him. 

"He hasn't," Lopez explained to Richter. "He just never quite got Adam out of his system."

"So we're trying to flush him out," Zanella added, and wow, there was _another_ drink in Tony's hand.

Which Tony ignored to say, "It's pathetic. It's -- he -- he moved on and I love him. I still love him and he's with someone else and it's serious..."

Zanella guided the drink up to his mouth, probably to shut him up so he didn't embarrass himself any further in front of Chief Richter. Who hated Adam. And probably wouldn't think very highly of Tony for being hung up on him, after almost a whole stupid year.

But what Richter actually said was, "He's not dating anyone."

It took a second for that to penetrate the alcohol haze. Tony stared at him. And so did Zanella and Gillman and Lopez, and Gillman was the one who recovered enough to say, "What?"

"Wyndham. Isn't dating anyone." Richter said it very slowly, like they were all stupid, and Tony felt like he'd _gone_ stupid, the world a little out of focus. And maybe one of the other guys managed to ask him more, while Tony was still too out of it to manage, because he eventually continued, "I was at a party with Jane. There was gossip. Wyndham's boyfriend dumped him a month ago -- it was messy."

_Messy_. All of Adam's breakups were messy. Except for with Tony, which had been a clean cut, but Tony was still a mess, so maybe it counted.

"Apparently," Richter continued, and this was more words than Tony had ever heard him speak at once before, "the boyfriend was cheating on him -- often, and blatantly, and finally dumped him because he didn't care. Because he was," he fixed his scary gaze on Tony directly, "still in love with his ex."

Tony actually dropped the drink he'd been holding, and it shattered against the floor, soaking his pantleg. "Ah, shit," Zanella said, turning to talk to the bartender, but Tony didn't pay any attention to that.

Because Adam was single.

And still in love with his ex.

"I need to get to LA," he said, and stood up off the stool -- and fell into Lopez's arms, because holy shit, he was really, really drunk. "Lemme -- lemme go, I need to --"

"Tomorrow," Gillman said firmly, as Zanella handed over a credit card to the bartender. "I think you've had enough for tonight."

"But I need to see him," Tony said, or at least tried to say. The words got all tangled up in his mouth and he wasn't sure anyone could understand him. "I can't just call because he won't answer and if I see him, I know he'll talk to me. Face to face, it'll be easier, and I need to go. My car, where's…"

"No." Lopez was holding him up, but also holding him still. "No way are you driving anywhere, Chickie, you are completely wasted."

"But I have to -- I love him -- I have to find him!"

Lopez glanced at Richter, and then back at Zanella and Gillman, who were haggling over how they were splitting the tab. But they looked back at him, and if they were saying something Tony couldn't hear it over his own pounding heart, because he had to go find Adam, _had to_ , and it had already been almost a year. He wasn't waiting another day.

Finally, Lopez sighed and said, "Alright, Chickie. If you've gotta go right this second, I'll drive." And then something that didn't make as much sense, about, "I hope you didn't set him up for a broken heart." 

Making sense didn't matter, though, because a minute later they'd poured him into Lopez's car and there was a water bottle in his hands and they were on their way. The drive would take a couple of hours, and the world was bright and shiny as it whipped past the car. They made him drink the whole water bottle, stopped so he could piss, and bought him _another_ water bottle, but he still wasn't quite sober yet when Lopez pointed out, "You know, you've talked about the breakup, but you've never really talked about … him. What's he like?"

So Tony told them. He told them about the Adam he knew, who the rest of the world didn't. Because yeah, he was funny and campy and hot as hell, but he was also sensitive and messed up and would do anything to keep the world from seeing that. The Adam he knew was dying to be sweet but terrified of being vulnerable. He wanted to be a better person but didn't always know how. He needed someone who would love him anyway, love him for that and not despite that. Love him for exactly who he was.

Love him like Tony loved him.

Somehow, the next thing he knew, he was giving Lopez directions to Adam's apartment, and they were pulling up outside. It was almost eleven, and he didn't even know if Adam was home. But here he was, mostly sober, with his friends looking on expectantly.

"Well, go get 'im, tiger," Zanella finally said, and Tony pushed the door open. He could stand now, the world wasn't spinning anymore, and he was pretty sure he'd even be able to talk. Which was good. Though maybe he'd forget again the second he saw Adam, because that had happened before.

He forced himself to walk up to the door and ring the bell. He told himself that Adam would answer. Adam had to answer.

And sure enough, there was noise behind the door as Adam checked the peephole. Then a long, agonizing wait. And then the door opened.

Adam just stared at him for a long minute, before drawling, "Hey there, sailor boy."

"Adam, I…" He stared, not sure where to start. With the news that he knew Adam was single? He wouldn't have come otherwise. But… "The repeal, it went into effect today and I had to… had to come here and…"

"And?" Adam prompted. 

Tony couldn't read his expression. He didn't know if Adam was interested or just planning to politely turn him down. Again. Richter had said Adam was still in love with his ex, but that was just gossip. Or, shit, maybe Tony wasn't even the ex in question. Adam had always been hung up on Robin, hadn't he?

But Adam was just waiting expectantly, and when Tony looked into his eyes, he thought yes, maybe he had a chance. Inspiration struck. He took Adam's hands, and tugged him out onto the stoop, then down onto the sidewalk.

"I had to come here to ask you to do me a favor. See, that car right there," he gestured at Lopez's car, where the windows had been rolled down and three grown men were obviously eavesdropping as best as they could, "my friends are inside, and… I guess I'm being selfish, because I know you wanted me out of your life. But I was really hoping that you'd let me kiss you. Just once, just so that I'll always have that. You know? I'll always be able to look back and say, no matter what, there was one time I got to stand outside in public and kiss the love of my life in front of my best friends."

"Yeah?" Adam asked.

"Yeah," Tony said. "And if… if you'll do that for me, and then you want me to go, I'll go. I just want it once, to have that memory."

Adam stared up at him, hazel eyes searching for something. Tony's breath caught and he waited, willing himself not to beg, hoping desperately Adam would allow him this.

Then Adam reached up to rest a hand on the back of Tony's head, draw his face down, and _Adam_ kissed _him_. He wove his arms around Tony's neck, and Tony put his around Adam's back and pulled him close, as Adam soul-kissed him right there, in public, in front of Tony's best friends.

There was cheering from the car.

Tony found himself laughing against Adam's mouth, and Adam finally drew back and looked up at him. 

"So now you'll go if I ask you to?" Adam asked, but he was smiling. He didn't look like he was about to kick Tony back out of his life.

So Tony told the truth. "Shit, no. I thought I'd be able to, but after that, nope, I just want to keep kissing you for the rest of my life."

Adam laughed, too, and leaned up to kiss him again -- but only a quick peck before pulling back, free of Tony's arms. He disentangled himself, then… walked towards the car. 

Tony followed, not at all sure what to expect. And maybe his gaze drifted naturally downward, just a little, as he watched the way Adam freaking _sauntered_ , doing something with his hips that most men definitely didn't. Or maybe there was some other reason the car erupted with laughter.

Adam leaned in the front window, glancing around, and Tony caught up with him in time to hear, "Hey, sailors. I'm Adam."

"We kind of figured that out," Lopez said.

"I'm also apparently," Adam glanced back at Tony, who couldn't help but grin, "the love of Tony's life. Turns out. Who knew?"

"We all did," Gillman said. "Why do you think we drove him here?"

Adam laughed again, sounding about as joyful as Tony had ever heard him. "Well, thanks for that, because it saved me the trouble of having to track him down in San Diego and grovel for a second chance. Because he also happens to be the love of _my_ life, and I am never messing that up again."

Tony couldn't help himself. He surged forward, wrapping his arms around Adam again, pulling Adam's back to his chest. Adam turned his head and kissed Tony again, then murmured, "Come on, be just a little patient, baby, give me thirty seconds, here."

Tony snorted a little at the idea of Adam telling _him_ to be patient, and didn't let him go, but did let him go back to the conversation he was apparently determined to have. 

"Anyway -- thank you," Adam said. "And how about this? There's a cute little Italian restaurant a couple stoplights down from here -- I know for a fact Tony loves their lasagna -- how about you all go grab a table and wait for us? We'll be along in…" He glanced back at Tony, "maybe half an hour or so."

"Yeah, the way he's looking at you, I don't think what you’re doing is going to take half an hour," Zanella said.

Adam peered at him in the back of the car, then said, "You must be Izzy. And what makes you think we're only doing it _once_?"

Zanella laughed at that, too. "Wow, get some, Chickie!"

"I intend to," Tony said, tugging Adam back towards him again. "We'll see you in… awhile. Half an hour. Maybe a little longer. We'll see."

"Two blocks, on the right, can't miss it," Adam said. "See you there."

This time, he let Tony pull him away, and Tony all but dragged him back to the apartment. He didn't even look up to see Lopez pull away from the curb, didn't actually care whether they went to the restaurant or not, because the second the door closed behind them, Adam was kissing him again.

"You know," Adam said into his jaw, "I was going to do it. I still have your address somewhere, I couldn't," Tony kissed him, but he pulled away to talk, "couldn't bring myself to throw it away, I was going to come find you. Ask you to," Tony kissed him but it still didn't stop him, "please take me back."

"I would have said yes," Tony said. "I'm _saying_ yes. I'm saying I'm yours, and you're mine, and seriously, Adam, talking is great and all but I need you. Right now."

"Right here in the front hall? Because I was hoping for a nice, long shower."

"That works too," Tony said, and before Adam could start talking again, grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hall, to the bathroom where they'd done this so many times. 

"We do need to talk," Adam said, but since he was already stripping down, Tony didn't care.

"Later," Tony said. "After."

"I've been seeing that shrink --"

"Good." Tony dug out the condoms from the medicine cabinet, where he knew they'd be.

"And I _was_ dating someone else, for months."

"I don't care." Tony turned on the water. He'd tell Adam about his other hookups later, because he wasn't going to lie, not even by omission, just like Adam seemed determined to put it all on the table now.

But goddamn, it had been almost a year, and Tony was not waiting any more.

"Tony, I'm trying to be honest with you and --"

"Adam," Tony said again. He took Adam's hands and led him into the water, under the pounding spray. "Let me be very clear. I love that you want to talk. I want to talk to you, too. I want us to be honest and open about everything. But right now, I want to be inside you, and have you in my arms, and kiss you, and lick every fucking inch of your body." He pushed the hair out of his eyes, so it wouldn't drip so much. "Then we will fucking talk about everything. Okay?"

Adam laughed, head thrown back, and Tony leaned in to suck a red splotch on his neck. The water pounded down on them and Adam said, "Okay, Tony. I'm yours. And I'm shutting up now. I love you."

The fact of the matter was, he could have listened to Adam say things like _I'm yours_ and _I love you_ on a loop for hours. And Adam seemed to know that, because he didn't exactly shut up. He just mixed in a few _oh gods_ and _fuck yeahs_ and fell apart in Tony's arms, and then took Tony apart in his.

Yeah. Adam was definitely _it_ for Tony. His one and only.

In the end, they were late for dinner.


End file.
